


through with love

by cordkitty



Series: One Shots and Prompts and Stuff for Lokil Lavellan [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Dragon Age AU, F/M, Lavellan is a singer in a Blues bar, Lokil Lavellan - Freeform, Modern AU, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Relationship, Smut, Solas Smut, Solo!Solas, dom!solas, dom!sub, ecplicit, ma babe, sexy egg, the egg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 23:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16922583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordkitty/pseuds/cordkitty





	through with love

He pushes open the heavy, wood-panelled door, his head bowed and his hat pulled low over his face; rain from the storm outside pummelling the back of his exposed neck and pushing him into the smoke-filled, musky air of a dingy, too crowded bar room.

Solas looks up and squints through the smoke stinging his eyes. He can’t make out much at first. The small room with its low, arched stone-ceiling is cramped with huddled figures; workers and guests alike are squeezing through the thick screen of smoke.

Most of the guests are standing or sitting by themselves, at small round tables and on rickety chairs, hunched over and shadows under their eyes, some chatting in low voices or simply listening to the slow music. The smell of stale booze clings to them and the room.

But his eyes adjust quickly to the hazy half-light. And while they are still searching, willing the crowd to part and free up his view of the small stage at the other end of the angular room, his ears found her the minute he stepped inside. Her usually husky voice, which lends itself so well to the slow and moody blues music she loves so much, sounds different from what he got used to when he came here a few times to listen; but he recognizes its soft cadences easily. Her song tells of heartbreak and isolation, and she makes her voice shiver and sigh to show how much she understands the story she is telling.

“… I’ll never fall again. Said adieu to love, don’t ever call again.”

She lets her eyes drift lazily above the bent-down heads of her audience and her hips are swaying slowly with the song’s gentle rhythm; and as she’s doing so, the small black beads that are hanging down from the hem of her black dress sway with her movements, enchanting the many eyes following the soft waves she is painting with her body.

“Goodbye to spring and all it meant to me. It can never bring the thing that used to be.”

Yes. The things that used to be.

He wonders dimly if she knows somehow. Or senses, sometimes when they exchange a few words in passing, when he compliments her singing.

He can’t always help himself. He never meant to come here in the first place but was pushed inside the door that first time by sheer accident, trying to escape a storm, just like tonight. Meeting this beauty, this strangely open and yet puzzling woman was even less his intention. She turned out to be… a distraction.

And he seems to have opened, somewhat reluctantly, the way to a strange new place by allowing her to believe that he is interested in this new acquaintance when he answered some of her curious questions about who he is what brings him here and does he mind the smoke of her cigarette and does he love blues music just like she does.

She seems lonely somehow, chatting this freely about all the things she cares about so deeply to a perfect stranger.

“I’ve locked my heart, I’ll keep my feelings there. I’ve stocked my heart with icy, frigid air. And I mean to care for no one…”

And the things that are going to be.

Because this night is going to be different. No idle chats, no time to share a drink with her and talk until they close the place up and he has to head home alone again. Over the years, he has almost forgotten what it felt like to fall asleep easily. But lately, he has been growing increasingly dependent on taking his own pleasure to even be able to fall asleep at all. And as the weeks have passed, the memories of their conversations and her voice and her hips swaying to the music and how she bites her lips-. She has become too comfortable around him, daring enough to send the occasional half-smile his way, flirt a little, then more, then too much. And for the past two weeks, she has ended every single one of their sometimes heated discussions on various topics by crossing the little space she leaves between them and humming sweet pleas of-

“Mercy-”, a laugh in her voice, “Have mercy with me. Don’t scowl at me like that, or someday I’ll want you to be even meaner to me, it’s so much fun to watch that little crease building on your forehead.” The only defence against these assaults is to rub the memories of these moments from his mind at night alone, under thin blankets, rain pummelling the windows of his too empty flat while blues music is warbling from his old record player.

He has different plans for her tonight. He has decided: He doesn’t want to fall in love any more than he already has. And the only way to stop this going any further in the direction of trouble is to take over the sinking ship himself and steer it somewhere different, to some place where he knows his way around. She has taken them into these dangerous waters, and he never meant to indulge her into thinking that anything was going to come from this.

***

Solas leans against a broad stone column that is supporting the low ceiling and orders a drink from a passing waitress. She snaps at him to wait his turn, but he looks directly into her eyes, mean, but with the hint of a smirk, and he pushes a wet banknote into her hand, without a reply. She blushes and walks away, disappearing into the crowd. He keeps his eyes on the daring young elven woman on the stage instead, and as she draws out the last high note of this sad song, their eyes meet.

The music drifts into a new song, melancholy and heavy, and she turns her head to the three musicians behind her to talk to them and then she easily finds his eyes again, still holding her in his gaze. She steps off the stage and slowly makes her way through the crowd towards him. She opens her mouth to say something when the waitress appears next to him from between two guests and shoves a small dirty glass full of auburn liquid into his hand and stomps past him without a word, her tray held above the heads of two middle-aged women wearing furs and too much lipstick.

“Well, that was rude.” Lokil says, chuckling. She looks at him. “Few people manage rude with the same allure as you sometimes do, Solas.” Another one of those loathed half-smiles, the wicked creature. He loves her smiles.

“Good evening, da'len.” His voice comes out thinner than he wants it to. “Have I been rude to you?” She’s tilting her head, her eyes narrowed as if she’s trying to think of a more polite amends to her own rather rude remark. “If that is so, I do apologize. Ir abelas.”

“No. Not rude, really.”, she concedes. “But pointed, like you’re always trying to find a fault with me.” He is. Always struggling to shove her out of his head, find anything in her that would lower his opinion of her. But he always ends up with the memories of her features engraved more deeply on his mind instead. “But don’t worry. And don’t apologize.” Smile. “I don’t mind rude, from the right person.“ Smirk.

“Right how?” Ugh. He didn’t mean to say it out loud. How self-indulgent.

She hesitates. “A good heart. I think.” A warm smile, this time.

“I am flattered.” And you are naive.

There is a short silence, while the music grows louder.

“So”, she says, slightly awkwardly and with a small nervous huff. “Can’t stay away, can you?” One corner of her lips pulls up and her dark eyes are glinting again under long lashes.

For a second, he doesn’t know how to respond. Lokil doesn’t see it, but she hit the spot. That’s what’s going to change tonight, though, making that tender, quivering part of him hard and still again. Solas can’t think of anything to say sarcastic and stinging enough to put her in her place and make that damned smile go away. He hangs on her smile for a moment longer. Another thing to keep for later, when she won’t be wanting to see him again. He hopes, anyway, and at the same time, doesn’t. This needs to stop, so he decides to begin this new course of action right now. He straightens himself and makes his eyes cold and hard, looking down on her.

“I could.” Pause. Prepare the impact of his words. “Or I could make you… reconsider your choice of words in a more direct way.” He cannot help but feel slightly pleased with the look of surprise on her face. But then he sees that spark in her eyes again.

“Try me, masa.” Taunting.

Solas keeps himself from snarling, but he involuntarily - and yet, not- grabs her wrist and can just stop himself from baring his teeth at her. Her eyes are large and her mouth opens in pleasant surprise and the turn this conversation has taken. “I can’t hear you.” He is almost snarling. “Would you care to repeat that?”

“Well, well. There’s life somewhere in there after all.” But she quickly adds, not meaning to truly anger him, “That’s the person I’ve been trying to get to know a bit.” Her smiles softens again, and at that, so does his hold of her wrist. She gently draws her hand out of his grip and instead lets the tips of her fingers ghost over his palm, sending shivers down his spine.

But a shout for her to get back on stage and sing another song interrupts this moment of tender war they are sharing, and so relieves Solas from having to think of another way to stump her insolence. She turns her head back to him, long blonde hair swivelling across her back, and continues in a low voice meant for his ears alone. “I can’t talk right now.” She grins and sticks the tip of her tongue out playfully. “But come see me later in my room?” She giggles, and Solas can’t believe that she should still doubt that this is where they have been heading for weeks now. He gives her a subtle nod and then nods her in the direction of the stage. She smiles once more and turns to leave.

It’s only when he takes a step back to lean against the cold stone column again in hopes of some relief from the sudden heat swirling around his head, that he notices that her words alone have made him hard.

 

 

***

 

 

The place is still crowded when she is finally stepping off the stage again. The waitresses are circling the room, taking any last orders from the guests.

Lokil doesn’t head straight for him where he’s still standing this time, but his eyes follow her around the room for another few minutes, and when she makes her way to the door marked “staff”, she looks over her shoulder and nudges her head in the direction of the back rooms, where some of the employees heve small rooms to themselves if the can’t afford a flat of their own on their meager salaries.

An invitation to follow.

Solas straightens up stiffly and, one hand in his pocket, the other wrapped around his third glass of whiskey, follows slowly, not wanting to draw too much intention. What he has in mind for the next half hour or so probably wouldn’t go over well with her boss. Before he pushes open the door through which she vanished a minute ago, he turns his head and looks around, then empties his drink in one and follows her.

He finds himself in a short and too narrow hallway with stained grey carpet lining the floor and dark plastered walls. On the left, several doors lead on into different rooms and on the right, smeared windows allow a view of a dark and cluttered backyard full of dumpsters and complete with a flickering streetlight.

He tries to figure out which room could be hers, as there are no names written on the doors. But squinting through the gloomy hallway, Solas sees one door standing slightly ajar and soft light and softer music pouring through. He makes for her room and only hesitates for a moment before knocking and pushing it open.

Lokil is sitting with her back to him in a chair in front of a vanity mirror she has hung with small paper lights, brushing her hair. The room is small and would be dingy with its wine-red wall paint peeling off in places if she hadn’t made it hers with warm light and soft furs on the floor. Only when he looks back at her, he notices that she has stood up to face him. He also notices that she has discarded all of her clothes on a small bed standing in the corner and is stark naked. She is still looking at him and Solas is stunned that she doesn’t seem flustered at how he walked in on her completely bared for him to see. And he does see.

“A gentleman would wait to be invited in.” She says, reaching for a silken robe hanging over the back of her chair. She steps closer. Too close, and there is no way for him to retreat without stepping backwards out of the room again. But that impulse is a few weeks late in any case. Solas is still standing there, looking directly into her eyes. He suddenly finds himself wondering if the things he has in mind for her are going to hurt her in any way.

She invited him here. She agreed to let him see this small personal space that is hers, with all the pictures on the walls that tell something of her, of a real person, more than an idea to fantasize about when he lets his cold fingers wrap around his cock at night in a shameful attempt to put his mind to rest.

She has stepped a little closer still. And as shame seeps into his thoughts at how he didn’t consider any possible consequences for her, he can feel his shoulders tensing, suddenly unable to move.

She is so close now that the tips of her breasts touch his upper abdomen and she puts her hands on his chest cautiously, testing. He can feel the warmth of her skin through his shirt and he realizes that he left his coat in the bar room. When he doesn’t protest at her touch she lifts one hand from his chest and pushes the door shut behind him without losing any words about how they have suddenly landed themselves in this much too familiar situation. When he doesn’t move or speak, Lokil puts her hand to the side of his face and, in an agonizingly slow movement, moves her lips to his for just a short moment and then looks at him again. “But the gentle part of you is the one you don’t like to show, isn’t it?” He still doesn’t move, but Solas notices that it is becoming increasingly difficult to keep up the tension in his arms that holds him back from reaching for her and pulling her close.

“Again.” His voice is low. He wonders if she can hear how dark it has become.

She smiles and places another kiss, but this time, she bites down on his lower lip, keeping her eyes open and fixed on his. His breath comes out in an audible huff as her touch sends jolts through his core.

When she draws back again, she chuckles quietly, teasing, “So serious.”

He looks down at her. One long moment passes in which she is observing carefully for any signs of discomfort on his part. “Do it again.” His voice is still quiet, without emotion, but hard. He is building up to that point he has been planning for, easing her into understanding that these are commands, not requests. He doesn’t know if she is familiar with this kind of… communication.

When she brings their lips together for a third kiss, Solas can feel the tip of her tongue grazing his lips, asking for entrance. Her breath on his face, the sweet smell of her and the thought that she wants to feel his body this close to hers break his last doubts in half.

He is still not touching her. But then she undoes the silken band holding her robe in place and, leaving it hanging loosely around her frame, takes his hand in hers and brings it to rest at the side of her neck and just below her jaw. But she doesn’t let it linger there. Instead, she moves their hands down across her collarbone and further down over her breast. Solas feels his pulse quicken as the peak of her breast grazes his palm, just like her fingertips did before. He squeezes involuntarily and she hums. Further down she goes, and he moves his hand so that its back is now slowly travelling down her warm body, tracing her curves. It makes his mouth water.

Time to begin putting his ideas for her into action and rid himself of this sticky lust clinging to his every thought. Time to end this.

“Get on your knees.” She looks at him with the same delighted surprise she wore on her face back in the bar. And she obeys, slowly sinking down, but not without letting her hands roam down the side of his body. He is so hard again he can feel his cock straining in his pants. She is kneeling now, looking up at him, a roguish smile on those gorgeous lips, waiting for him to tell her what’s next.

He undoes the button on his pants and tells her to pull them down. His cock springs free of its uncomfortable restraint and she looks at it and then back up into his eyes, licking her lips.

“Well? Are you waiting for permission?” She nods, biting her lip. “Say please.”

Her grin broadens. Cheeky thing. He will see those lips swollen and red from his kisses yet, and that devilish smile gone from her face to be replaced with that expression of agonizing pleasure he has wanted to see on her lovely face since they met.

“Please.” She makes her voice whiny, still attempting to tease. “Let me suck your cock.” Hearing that word from her mouth, in her sweet voice, whining, is enough to draw a low rumble from his throat. He nods once. She is enjoying every minute of this, every word. It puts his mind somewhat at ease. He never intended to upset her with this.

One hand resting on her thigh, she puts the other around him, and in one elegant, languid stroke, squeezing him her hand, strokes up and down his hard length once before wrapping her lips around the tip. She pushes against it with her tongue and feeling some part of her warmth encircling him forces another strained moan from his lips. Her rhythm is slow at first, lapping him up with relish. Solas watches her head bobbing back and forth more quickly with every stroke, but before he becomes unable to stop himself from closing his eyes and letting his pleasure take complete control of him, he reaches for her other arm, intending to put it to his hip to give her some control over how much of him she can take. But she has made use of it herself, the tips of her long fingers having disappeared between her thighs. And while he has to force himself not to moan even louder at the sight of her parted legs, he takes back control by burying his hand in her hair and yanking her head back. She gasps and looks up at him, her mouth hanging slightly open, heavy-lidded eyes dark with lust.

“Did I tell you you were free to touch yourself?”, he snaps down at her. “I tell you what to do and how to do it, and that way, we each get our pleasure when it’s our turn. Understood?” It’s as much a question for her approval as a command.

“Uh-huh.” She sticks her tongue, her mouth still slightly open in a pleased, but submissive smile.

He gently but firmly nudges her head back in the direction of his cock; but he also intertwines the fingers of his other hand with hers after sucking on them for a moment, wanting the taste of her in his mouth, to let her know that she is safe, despite his snarling demands. The affectionate gesture makes her hum around his length in content and the sound rumbles through his body.

This time, he sets the rhythm of his own want. She resists at first, but Solas pinches and twists the skin on her neck. The squeal of pleasure that comes in answer to this is muffled by his length filling her wet mouth. She yields to his wish, and he gives the impulse for her to move faster and she responds with more pressure from her skilled tongue stroking and circling his tip until he has to yank her head back again to stop himself from spilling in her mouth.

He pulls her into a standing position by her hair, and keeping his hand at the back of her head, lowers the other to open her and sink into her wet heat. They both grown simultaneously at the sensation. Hearing her voice tear like this in wild pleasure, her focus broken and its pieces in his hands gives him a pleasure, much deeper and more meaningful than any sensation of his body ever could, even if it is her giving that sensation. He circles the tender skin between her legs with just the tips of fingers, not even really touching and she whines at the heightened sensibility to his touch this is giving her.

“You are not to let yourself forget who sets the pace here.” Lokil understands his meaning and she looks at him so intently as if she was about to melt into his body and become one with him. And at her next words, there is nothing else left on his mind than to grant himself that same wish and join himself with her.

She moans. “Please. I have a… request.”

“I’m glad to see you understand the rules, da'len. Speak.”

“Tell me what you want to do to me.” She puts emphasis on all the right words, and the heartfelt honesty in her voice, completely baring her lust as well as her body to his unworthy eyes and ears, makes him place a swift kiss on her cheek.

“Is this all you wish me to do?”, he answers quietly, tracing his lips along her jaw and to her ears, eliciting more small moans from the goddess in his arms. The thought makes him smile. Maybe he has found not a distraction, but his equal.

“Tell me, Solas. Tell me what you’re going to do to me and what you want to feel. What’s this like for you?” She is holding on to him now, trustingly wrapping her arms around his neck in her wish to be close. “I need to hear you say it, whisper it into my ears. Talk to me, baby.”

Solas cannot help but chuckle into the curve of her neck and she shivers. He can hear her smiling. And he does answer her request, biting down on tender skin. “I want you to do what I tell you. I want your body beneath mine, press myself against you, hold you. I want my tongue to know every part of you. I want to feel you from the inside, your warmth around my cock.” She moans at everything he says. And while Solas doesn’t understand why she lets him have this so freely, he understands even less why he is so willing to give it. And so happy. This is bliss. “I want to hit the walls of you. I want you to trust me.” He didn’t mean to say it, but his conflict at having let her get into his head to the point of no return is melting in her embrace. He cannot give her a safe space, a safe love forever. There are things pressing down on him that are far beyond the understanding of a young unknowing elf like her, burdens she cannot understand. But maybe there is some way forward. For now, he will let those commandments that are binding his soul turn into commands for her to remind himself of a kind of love he has long forgotten.

At his words, she turns her head and looks into eyes, smiling. “I trust you.”

At this moment, he feels like a young man again. He grins. “That’s your mistake, then.” And he hurls her up and over his shoulder, delighting in her squeal of surprise and her giggles as he carries her to the small bed and deposits her on soft covers. She sits up immediately and tears his shirt open playfully, buttons flying everywhere. Solas shrugs it off his shoulders and pushes her back down. He grabs her knees and pulls her legs apart, opening her to him. Lokil stretches her arms towards him, beckoning for him to come closer, but he will not give in to this wish yet.

He shakes his head. “The time for games is over. This is when you obey again.” He bites his lip, eyes gleaming, to throw some of her own charms back at her. He turns and leans over the edge of the bed to pick up the silken band of her robe from the floor. Then, grabbing both of her wrists in one of his hands, he ties hers together tightly with his other and instructs her to put her arms over her head and “keep them there.” He is managing to make his voice rough again and she hears it.

He positions himself between her legs and, one hand stroking himself, puts the other on her breast, squeezing and then twisting the bud hard. She moans through her teeth and he involuntarily bucks into his own hand. Then, his torso still upright to keep some distance between them, he places himself at her entrance. “If you move your hands, I will stop and make you watch me instead. You wouldn’t want that, would you.” It is not a question.

Keeping her legs in place, he softly, slowly, pushes into her. The noise that rips from her throat alone makes his eyes turn upwards into the back of his head with overwhelming pleasure. He keeps going until his hips hit her supple flesh once with a satisfying thump, and revelling in the tight feeling of friction around his cock for a moment, he begins to move faster until they collide with every quick breath taken in unison.

There is nothing else now besides her. He wants to throw his head back and sink into the void, letting pleasure erase any other thought besides his love for her. But the sight of the muscles on her stomach twitching under her freckled skin and of sensation flickering across her beautiful face at his caresses keeps his eyes firmly fixed on her. Solas digs his nails into her thighs, trying to hold back his release just yet. He needs to be close to her for that moment. But this way, she won’t last very long either; and so he interrupts the hastened movements of his hips without warning and, almost pulling out, draws another desperate squeal from her again. She opens his eyes and stares at him, genuine annoyance in her face. Stopping himself from giving her an indulgent smile, Solas leans over her and presses down with one hand on her restrained wrists to tell her to keep her hands to herself. He loosens the silk band to hold them in place with his own hand instead, the other wrapping around her throat, nudging her head back by her jaw. “Do you have any complaints, da’len?”, he mutters, cutting sarcasm in his rough voice. She shakes her head, pleading for him to tighten his hand on her throat. “If you do, you had better keep them to yourself.”

But this proximity to her face - and the look in her eyes is digging into him - means he can no longer resist kissing her. He begins to move his hips again, giving her no predictable, steady rhythm to follow. When he feels her tongue on his for the first time, his own taste still clinging to her lips, he almost comes apart, moans and her name spilling from his own lips. But Lokil seems to sense that he is losing himself in her now, and she frees her hands from his slackening grip and grabs his chin, breaking their deep kiss unexpectedly. He sees it too late to back away, and before he can react, she slaps the side of his face, too softly like everything else about her, but it still stings, and for a moment, Solas is stunned at how the pain only serves to heighten every sensation in his body. He bites down hard on the small mound of flesh beneath her thumb in response and she clenches around him pulling her legs up and wrapping them around his waist.

“I-”, she can barely get the words out, she cannot stop herself from groaning, her voice hoarse, “I love you, Solas.”, breathes into his quivering ears. “I’m in lo-”. But even now, Solas cannot hear it. He has felt the words building up inside himself, but it is too much. And if the way he has been loving her now does not tell her that he feels the same, no words ever will. And so, not speaking them out loud, he bites into the skin of her shoulder instead.

This is when she can’t hold back anymore and Solas watches in awe, as she unravels before his eyes, somewhat numb disbelief at the fact that the creators should allow him to see her like this. Her eyes are fixed on his as she comes, but then roll up and her mouth opens in a silent scream of pleasure. The sweet undulations rocking through her body make him hurdle over the edge as well, as her hips buck against his.

And then there’s no strength left in him, as he feels himself spilling inside her, and he collapses, panting, on top of her.

After a few moments of bliss and happiness unlike any he has known before, while she is cradling his head against her chest, he manages to look up at her again.

The sight of her now is doing nothing to strengthen his resolve to not let this become too loaded with expectation. He could do nothing else but love her honestly anymore.

But next time, he will take more time with her. And he will take her to his place. With her warm radiance there, it could become a home after all.

“I think I’m in love as well.”, he tells her.


End file.
